Turning Point
by QueenBee11
Summary: This is my english assignment basically which is pick a turning point and change it. im angling for help so i can get a good grade so please r and r


Hey guys it me and I'm SOOOO sorry to say that this isn't a real chapter hate me if you must.

What I'm really doing is posting my English assignment as a chapter because I could like post it as a fanfic under to kill a mockingbird (I'm doing that too) but I know that I have atleast 100 people who have hpatua on alert so yes I'm using you all.

This is a damn hard assignment so what u do is we read to kill a mockingbird then pick a 'turning point' that you change so that the outcome of the story would be altered some how. Now that I think about it, its almost exactly like fanfic. Hmmm. Anyway I picked when tom robinson is killed trying to escape. If he didn't die then there would be a chance for a retrial and the rest is a follows.

If you've read tkamb or even if you havn't and want to help me out because u love me (PLEASE DO) just read and review. The bits in bold are the bits I want to change but can't think of anything to change it to right now.

As crap as this is it's about 239473 times better than my 1st draft which is making me happy. If you help me out with this then I'll have one less assignment which means I can update faster (muahahaha) thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you

Turning point

I could feel the sweat trickling under my clothes as the sun beat down relentlessly on Maycomb County. Even early in the evening the temperature hadn't dropped enough for comfot. Sitting beside me Jem was the same. Dill had gone back to his Aunt Rachel, much to his **annoyance** and ours. Every book in the house had been read and reread in the few months sice the trial.

"Hey Scout," said Jem, nudging my side. "Atticus' back."

Jem and I raced to meet him at the gate. He'd definitely been to see Tom Robinson again. Every time he came back he had the same weary yet determined look on his face. He gave a small smile to Jem and me then continued trudging up the porch into the cool respite of his study.

"How do you reckon Tim's going?" I asked Jem.

"From the look of Atticus, not too good."

I sighed Tom hadn't taken well to prison. Atticus said it was because a good man like Tom didn't belong in a place like that. But I don't think he'll be there much longer. The appeal is only a day away and Jem reckons we've got a fighting chance.

"Come on Scout we're getting baked out here," Jem said as he dusted off his trousers.

I awoke bright and early the next day eager to get to the courthouse. When we finally arrived I found myself in a very familiar situation, seated in the Negro balcony between Reverend Sykes and Jem, watching as the opposing sides of the council have their testimony.

I gazed around the coutrom singling out all the pople I knew. It was the same as the otigional case, everone in the town had turned up to watch. Then, from the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of something I wasn't expecting to see. While everything else in the courtoom had remained unchanged from the origional case, on thing seemed out of place: the jury stand. On it I saw Mr. Underwood, Mr. Radley and many other people I recognised from town.

"Reverend Sykes!" I whispered excitedly. "Why are all the townspeople on the jury?"

"Surely you've been hearing about all the trouble with the jury Miss Jean Louise?" he whispered back.

"Naw, Atticus hasn't been talking much about the case."

The reverend nodded wisely. "**Well the members of the 1st jury have all gone back to the woods for the new trapping season, so they needed a new jury for the appeal."**

"Oh I get it," I nodded at Reverend Sykes. "So townspeople had to volunteer."

"That's right Miss Jean Louise. Let's hush now and listen to the case."

Time seemed to pass quickly as we all sat in rapt attention. Before I knew it Atticus had finished his final address and the jury were filing out of the courtroom. All 12 of the men wore the gravest faces I had ever seen. As the last man of the jury disappeared through the wooden doorway I let out a breath I didn't realise I had been holding.

"What do you think Jem? Were we better than before?" I asked in a hushed voice.

"I though we had 'em last time and look what happened. Don't take my word on it," he said seriously.

"But what do you reckon? I want to know."

He shrugged his shoulders and let them fall heavily, "Let me just say this, if it was me on that jury we'd be back out of that room in five minutes with a verdict of not-guilty."

I nodded and sat back in my seat, preparing myself for a long wait. As I looked around the courtroom I wondered whether a new jury would make a difference or would it be exactly the same problem as last time, men taking the word of a white woman over a black man even in the face of overwhelming evidence. If I let my imagination run away with me I could see Judge Taylor announcing that Tom was not guilty and the look on Atticus' face as the beheld Tom's beaming one. We just had to win. We _had_ to.

**Time ticked by without my noticing, so wrapped up in my thoughts as I was. I was brought back to earth though** as the first juryman re-entered the courtroom and the audience drew its collective breath.

Judge Taylor's voice sounded alarmingly loud against the stifling silence of the courthouse. "Have you reached a unanimous decision?"

The head of the jury nodded and handed a slip of paper to Judge Taylor.

In that moment my certainty faltered. I knew that Tom was not guilty, heck most of the town knew it! But would that be enough in a case gone so horribly wrong that the prosecutors main piece of evidence, was the colour of his clients skin?

Judge Taylor's booming voice interrupted my frightening train of thought, "Not Guilty…Not Guilty…Not Guilty…"

My face wasn't nearly big enough to contain the grin I wore when I heard those words.

Everyone in the courtroom was celebrating in some way. Whether it be as small as Mr. Gilmer's secretive handshake with Atticus or Tom's look of pure euphoria as he embraced Helen. Atticus caught my eye and I smiled at him. The weight of the retrial that he had been carrying around with him all this time seemed to melt off his face as he beamed at me. Behind us the entire Negro balcony halted in their celebrations to rise to their feet and as one nod at Atticus. He accepted their sign of gratitude with a small bow and laughed when they resumed their cheering and dancing.

Jem was doing a victory dance with Reverend Sykes and as I laughed along with them, glad that the jury was made up of people like Jem. People who do the right thing even if it's not the 'right' thing.


End file.
